Trapped in the Closet
by MangoGrape
Summary: Wheatley and Craig are stuck in a closet. Craig has to go to the bathroom. This can only end in tragedy. WARNING: Wetting/omorashi/swearing.


"Will you hurry up!?".

"I'm trying, I'm trying!".

The two men argued back and forth relentlessly. Wheatley pounded furiously on the heavy, metal door, yelling out for help. The brunette eventually gave up, his knuckles beginning to go numb from all the physical contact.

"Gah, it's no use. Nobody can hear me." Wheatley sighed, shaking his head. Craig groaned, slamming his head into the wall. The dark skinned man turned towards his co-worker again, a deadly glare manifesting on his face.

"This is all your fault..." Craig muttered. Wheatley scoffed in disgust.

"My fault? I don't see why you didn't just go to the toilet _before_ we came out to do this!" He said defensively.

"Well excuse me if I didn't count on getting locked in a closet with the biggest block head in this building!" Craig hollered. With the added intensity of his voice, he could feel a spurt of urine in his bladder threatening to break loose. The man quickly crossed his legs and grunted.

"Just open the damn door..." Craig grumbled under his breath. Wheatley nodded quickly, beginning to search the room for anything of use. The shorter man got down on his knees and began crawling around Craig.

"Ehm, let's see... No bobby pins as far as I can tell..." He observed. "Oh! Here's an idea- pens. We could pick the lock with pens. Have you got any on you?" He asked. Craig thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Oh. Alright... ehhh, let's see.". Wheatley got to his feet, scratching his head in thought.

"God, I can't believe this..." Craig mumbled. Just then Craig felt a bit of pee exiting him unexpectedly. His hands flew to his crotch, stopping it before anything else came out. Wheatley looked at him questioningly.

"Are you okay, mate?" He asked.

"I'm fine!" Craig snapped back. Wheatley frowned in annoyance.

"Alright, alright, don't have to be rude about it..." He said quietly. The brunette bent down in order to be level with the doorknob. He screwed up his face in concentration, adjusting his glasses. He stared at the piece of metal for a long, long time.

"What are you doing?" Craig asked.

"Trying to use telepathy to open the door." Wheatley replied, his eyes still glued to the door. His friend stared at him incredulously. Before he had a chance to question it, he gasped. A hot jet of urine presented itself, running down his leg. Craig whimpered, tightening the grip on his crotch and buckling his knees. Wheatley spun around, his face turning a slight shade of pink. Though the room was pretty dark, the flickering, dimmed light bulb was enough to show the darkened streak of wetness on his co-worker's pants.

"Will you stop staring already?" Craig growled. The black haired man pressed his back against one of the three walls making up the room. He squeezed his eyes shut, squirming in place. When he opened his eyes the moron was still looking at him funny. "What are you looking at!?" He shouted. Wheatley opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He looked to both sides of him as he moved closer to the taller man, putting his hand on his shoulder. Upon feeling the other man's touch, Craig slapped the hand away.

"Oi! I'm just trying to help, don't have to be-" Wheatley started. Craig felt white, hot anger boiling up inside him as he squeezed his thighs together tighter.

"If you want to help me, then just fix the damn door!" He hollered. Wheatley twiddled his fingers anxiously.

"W-well yeah, but I don't-" He started. Craig flung his arm out at him, taking a fistful of Wheatley's tie. The brunette stared in shock at his acquaintance. He had never seen him this aggressive about anything.

Craig panted in both pain and anger. His face was flushed red and his brow drenched in sweat. He pulled harder, nearly choking the other.

"I swear to _God_, Wheatley, if you do not open this door _right now_ I am going to piss _right_ here, _**right fucking now.**_" Craig muttered furiously. Wheatley stared back at him, a look of fear painted on his visage. He had never even imagined the likes of Craig speaking in such a vulgar way. However, this did make for some pretty good motivation.

Once released, the moron got straight to work. He tried everything from jiggling the handle to ramming his shoulder into the door to banging his head on the thing. He stepped back, holding his in his hands.

"What are you doing!?" Craig demanded, a few more squirts of piss leaving his body.

"It's no use- the bloody thing won't budge!" Wheatley said. Craig gnashed his teeth.

"Well keep trying! Kick it! KICK IT OFF ITS HINGES! DO SOMETHING! _**ANYTHING**_!" He screamed as his bladder spasmed again. Although the more he screamed, the less angry he sounded and the more desperate he sounded. Wheatley frowned heavily, a genuine pitiful feeling in his chest. He back up, balancing against the wall. With an almighty bang, the brunette bucked against the door. He repeated this many times, hoping to God the door would give.

Craig's heart pounded harder than he could remember it ever pounding. His body was wracked with sweat as he shook and quake. The extreme tension in his muscles just barely allowing him to move. The most movement he did was shuffle in place, rubbing his hands up against his manhood. Little trickles of pee escaped his already leaking bladder. The stinging, burning sensation in his entire body was too much. No, he couldn't do it anymore. This was his breaking point.

Craig let out a shaky breath as his bladder betrayed him, subtle trickles turning to a waterfall of urine exiting him. The hot liquid snaked down his legs, wrapping him in a disturbing wetness. His pants were quickly soaked in it, dark gray soon turning to black. Wheatley turned to face him, looking on in horror as the piss streaming out of Craig pooled beneath his feet. He felt a wave of warmth pass over him as he went red in the face. The puddle of gold tinted liquid expanded across the floor, easily occupying a great deal of it seeing as how small the room was.

Wheatley backed away in alarm, pushing himself up against the door in an attempt to keep his shoes dry. Thankfully Craig had finished before this became the brunette's fate.

The dark skinned man sighed in relief as he removed his hands from his lower regions. His hands were dripping with urine while the cuffs of his long sleeves were slightly wet. The room reeked with the scent of urine.

The two of them looked around the room awkwardly for a minute, unsure of what to say. Who could blame them? One of the two office workers had just pissed his pants while the other watched. What could you say that to that? Wheatley rubbed his arm nervously before turning back to Craig.

"Uh... feel better?" Wheatley asked with an awkward grin. Before Craig had the chance to respond, a voice came from the other side of the door.

"Anybody in there?". Wheatley lit up in excitement. He recognized this gruff voice as Rick's.

"Yes, yes! Open the door! Please!" Wheatley cried desperately. Rick shrugged, turning the doorknob and opening the door. He raised an eyebrow curiously.

"'Ey, what are you two doin' in a supply closet?" He asked, a dirty smile stretching across his face. Wheatley paused before flailing his arms around.

"N-no! It wasn't like that!" He cried. Rick chuckled, ruffling the shorter one's hair.

"Ah, I'm just messin' with ya." He laughed. Wheatley rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses up. Craig growled, angrily stomping away from the both of them. Only then did the green eyed man catch sight of their friend's soaked pants. He looked back in the closet and his jaw hung slack as he took in the sight of the huge puddle on the floor. "Whoa, did Pinkie piss his pants?" Rick asked. Wheatley awkwardly nodded, causing Rick's face to contort in shock. He looked at Craig, then Wheatley, then back to Craig again. "Yo! Pinkie! C'mon, wait up!" he hollered, following him.

Wheatley was left to himself, standing in the middle of the hallway. He began digging through his pockets until he pulled out a black, ballpoint pen.

'Oh, guess I had a pen with me after all.' he thought to himself.


End file.
